Up in the Clouds
by moonlessmondays
Summary: He loves her, she doesn't know. In the end, ignorance really is bliss. College OQ AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Guess who's back, back, back? anyway, here's some college oq with just a smidgen of angst, because you all know deep inside, you love the angst. I did originally decide to post this when i've had at least one multichap updated or finished somehow, but oh well, what the hell.**

 **Thanks Milesus for the beta read. Thanks Jen for pre-reading and offering your opinions!**

 **Enjoy beauties.**

* * *

It's a Tuesday evening and Regina sits at a table inside a restaurant in town, all by herself, even when she _shouldn't_ be. She stares at the flowers neatly sitting on the center of the table, the candles that stood at their side flickering. It's beautiful, really, but she cannot appreciate it, not when he's standing her up again.

It shouldn't be so hard to remember, shouldn't be so hard to make time for _them_ , it's their ritual at this point, dinner together every Tuesday night (she has even scheduled this on his free time so he won't have the excuse of being busy or having classes or anything else that does not involve someone dying or an accident of any kind). Yet he still forgets —more often than not— he's still busy, and she still spends her Tuesday night crying because once again, something else comes before her, and he had, once more, forgotten that they'd made plans.

The waitress comes over once again to ask if she is ready to order, that look full of pity in her eyes, a look that Regina resents, and so Regina squares her shoulder and says _No_ , she's _waiting for someone_ , she _ju_ st _needs a glass of water_ (a bottle of wine, really), for now. The smile the waitress gives her is indulgent, and Regina begins to hate the girl for it. But she just clamps her mouth shut and gives the other woman a tight smile. When the waitress comes back to pour her a glass of water, Regina pays her no mind and steadfastly ignores her.

Regina takes a sip of water, wishing it was red wine instead, and sighs internally, forcing her tears back to where no one would know they even exist. She doesn't want to cry, not again, and _definitely_ not here. She should be used to it by now, and really, she is, only the dull ache at the edges of her heart never quite eases up no matter how many times he does this to her.

Her phone buzzes from where it sits screen down on the table, and she sighs. She'd left a hundred messages and had called him a thousand times by now, but he hadn't picked up, had not replied, and at this point, she's given up —only hoping now he'd at least see one of her messages and come over even if he's already an hour late, or at least tell her he's not coming (even if deep down she knows already that he's not).

She picks it up and slides her thumb over the screen to unlock it, not surprised to see that it isn't him, but someone else.

 _Have a good time tonight x_

It's Robin, her best friend, and she's touched that he cares so much about her, and she loves him for it, is happy that she has him. But still, her heart aches so much in her chest as she types up a reply:

 _Doubt it. Daniel's not yet here. Don't think he'll show up, tbh_.

And her heart sinks further into her stomach when she hits send, because she actually believes her words.

 **...**

Robin sprawls on his couch, mindlessly flickering the button on the remote and going through channel after channel. It's a Tuesday night and he's bored. Even worse, it's a Tuesday night and it's Regina's date night with her long time boyfriend Daniel (they had been dating for almost three years now, since Freshman year, after they had met at a party in the campus), who Robin tries very hard to remind himself is also his friend.

But it is hard though, to be friendly with the man who had literally stolen the woman he loves right from under his nose. Robin had been friends with Regina for a long time, ever since he's transferred to the same high school as her when they moved to Maine from Essex on their second year. They had both been lucky to get into the same university, _Columbia_ , here in New York, and her parents had been ecstatic (though with trepidation over the blurry status of his relationship with Regina) that they would at least be together in the big city.

The thing though is that he loves Regina, not just as a friend, he's loved her from the first moment he's laid eyes on her. Only he'd been too scared to admit it to her, scared that she would stop talking to him, and that it would ruin their friendship. And if he's honest with himself, which he is as a rule (except about his feelings for Regina), his friendship with Regina is the most important relationship he has, and Robin's sure he won't be able to make it if he lost her over his feelings for her.

So he's kept mum about his feelings, and when she came to him, telling him she had met the man of her dreams, he swallowed the pain and smiled at her, told her he's happy for her even when he'd felt his heart break into a million pieces.

It had even proven to be the right decision when he'd seen her so happy with him, with Daniel, the glow in her positively radiant. He'd convinced himself that setting her free was the right decision.

And yet today, he's not even sure of that, because he'd watched the woman he loves cry over this other man almost on a daily basis, and it hurts him, makes him want to punch Daniel square in the face to knock some sense into him.

He cannot do that though, so he settles on comforting Regina, settles on hugging her and drying her tears when she comes over to sob over another date cancelled or postponed, another important date forgotten, settles on seething and mentally killing her boyfriend violently.

Something that he's sure he'll be doing tonight, when he receives her message saying Daniel hasn't showed up once again to their date (it's been happening so much lately, and Robin has barely managed to stop himself from punching the lights out of him for doing this to Regina).

He can't help but wish he'd risked it back then and told her what he'd felt for her, maybe now they'd be together and they would be happy because he would never, ever treat her this way.

 **...**

It's an hour later when Regina finally gives up hope.

She types up a quick message to Robin, saying Daniel had in fact stood her up, before gathering her things. With as much dignity as she can muster, Regina stands up from her seat with her head held high, tears held back, as though her boyfriend hadn't stood her up yet again, and gracefully exits the establishment.

She doesn't want to believe it, doesn't want to believe that this _isn_ _'_ _t_ a nightmare, but Daniel has done it again.

He had stood her up once again and the realization stabs through her, sending painful sparks through her heart.

Regina takes her coat and wraps it around her body, exhaling and trying to fight her tears. In her hand, her phone vibrates and she unlocks it, only to find a message from Daniel saying he's _sorry_ , he got held up reviewing and _lost track of time_ , and he'll _make it up to her_.

She knows he will, he always does, it's a cycle by now, and she sighs heavily because she knows _she'll_ forgive him, knows she'll let him get away with it with a few apologetic words and a few soft kisses… only to wait for him to do it again.

Regina shakes her head at herself as she steps out of the restaurant, and just as she does, the rain starts pouring, and it's stupid, idiotic, really, because she'd actually thought that her day could not get any worse than this. The rain pelts down the ground in torrents and she has no way of getting home or hailing a cab without getting herself soaking wet, and _shit fucking hell! This life!_

She sighs, resigned to the fact that she's just going to have to ruin her dress and shoes, and that she'd have to run through the rain, hail a cab and just accept the fact that she's going to be soaking wet.

Regina breathes in deeply and braces herself, runs to the sidewalk to hail a cab —the first one already occupied and speeding past her, the second one stolen by another woman a few feet away from her, and the third one speeding through, managing to soak her further.

She feels frustrated at this point, feels the need to punch something, someone, to curse at everything because really, how great has this night turned out?

Regina drops her head and lets the tears flow, no one would know, her face is wet with the rain anyway. She reaches up to wipe under her eyes, and it surprises her when suddenly, she no longer feels the rain on her skin, instead she listens to the droplets falling around her, but not _on_ her.

Curiously, Regina looks up and finds the last man she'd expected to be there.

Robin.

He has a soft, chiding smile on his face, umbrella firmly grasped in hand, looking at her with an odd expression.

"I always tell you to bring an umbrella, but you never listen," he chastises, and she shakes her head, sobs harder at the sight of him.

Regina throws her arms around him, knocking him a little out of balance. He catches her though, steps back a little to gain equilibrium as his arms wrap around her soaking wet form. She feels relief flood through her, feels a little overwhelmed, too, doesn't really know what she's done to deserve Robin. And to think that Daniel has always been so jealous of her friendship with Robin, of the things she is willing to do for him, when he's the only one who is ever really there for her, the only one who has ever truly _cared_.

She gasps out his name as she continues to sob, while his arms snake around her waist, and pulls her closer. Her own arms tighten around his neck and she clutches him, holds on to him for dear life. She can feel him move his hand a little until he's able to run it up and down her back.

"It's okay, Regina," he tells her, and she sighs because it's not, it's not okay but he's here trying to soothe her. "He just got caught up. You know how tight his schedule can be."

And there he goes, making up excuses for Daniel again, though Regina is sure that it isn't for Daniel's sake but for hers, for the sake of her broken heart. It does very little now, in the way of comfort, because Robin isn't the one who's supposed to be apologizing to her about this, Daniel is, but Robin's warm embrace against the cold night air and the coldness seeping through her due to her wet dress, goes a long way.

"You don't have to keep making excuses for him," she tells him on a hiccup, lifting her head and shaking it. She gives him one look and feels horrified. "Oh god, I got you wet!" She exclaims, hand flying up to her mouth as she steps back.

Robin follows her form with the umbrella, taking a step forward as she does.

"It's fine," he tells her, but she's not convinced. "Okay, look, why don't we go to my apartment and get you changed into something a little more dry than what you're wearing, hmm? Lest you actually catch death in those soaking wet clothes."

She gives him a numb nod, lets him place his hand at the small of her back and lead her away to his apartment where it's bound to be a lot warmer.

He's here now, and suddenly everything feels so much better.

 **...**

 _It feels so much better._

That's what Robin thinks as he opens the door to his apartment and is immediately assaulted by warmer air (he'd left the heater on while he'd gone to fetch Regina). He takes the folded umbrella in his hand and places it on the corner, lets it stand for it to dry, before he urges Regina in.

Regina shivers instantly and he is reminded of her current state —soaked to the bone. So he leads her to the bathroom (she seems to be too numb and too out of it at the moment, probably from having cried all the way to his apartment), and leaves her to her own devices, hoping to God she's in herself enough to get the whole dressing thing done.

It would be too awkward for him to have to help her do so, out of fear that she'd catch pneumonia if she stays another minute in her wet clothes.

He walks to his bedroom then, and goes to his closet to retrieve some dry clothes. He, himself, needs to get changed, so he takes one shirt for himself and another for Regina to change into. He shoves his shoes to a corner before going to look for a pair of joggers that would fit Regina. It had taken a while, but he did find something, a pair of grey joggers that he hasn't worn in about two years and he's positive had shrunk. It will fit Regina, he reckons, though it might still be a couple inches longer.

But that will have to do, so he takes it in his hands and delivers it to her outside the bathroom, where he hears the shower running. He moves away from there and walks to the kitchen ( it isn't much of a kitchen, really, just somewhere he can cook and wash and eat, his apartment isn't that big after all) to make some hot cocoa. He adds whip cream on top and splashes the hot drink with some rum, just so it would give an extra warmth to their bellies. He debates on whether or not he should make some food, he isn't really hungry, but he could eat something. Besides, he's pretty certain that Regina hadn't had dinner, considering what just happened.

It sets his mind, the latter part of his train of thoughts, and he goes about making some eggs and toasts (it is all he has at the moment, aside from ramen noodles that might be filling but has no nutritional value whatsoever, and something Regina won't eat).

He is just pouring the beaten eggs on to the pan when Regina walks out of the bathroom, clad in his shirt and pants (both of which she's had to roll up several folds so that they don't drown her), face bare of makeup and looking so beautiful his heart aches over the fact that she isn't _his_ to love, or to even tell and show exactly how beautiful she is.

"Hey," she greets with a shy smile, "I hope you don't mind that I hung my dress in your bathroom, as a, probably, futile attempt to salvage it, and I used your shower."

And probably had a good cry in there, too, he thinks, but doesn't say it. Instead, he nods and smiles, points at the small table where their hot cocoas had been waiting. She takes a seat and smiles at him gratefully.

"I don't mind," he tells her as he spoons out the eggs and serves them on two plates. He walks to the table and places the plates down before going to retrieve the toasts. " I have always told you that you're free to use anything." He takes a seat next to her as he puts the toasts down the table. "Eat up. I'm sorry this is not exactly the gourmet dinner you'd planned for, but it was either this or ramen and I know how much you hate them, MSG, no nutritional value, and all that crap." He rolls his eyes at her and pretends to be annoyed, when in reality all these little quirks of her, even the ones that annoy _her_ , are the things that makes him love her even more.

"Thank you," she says wholeheartedly, eyes glistening with tears yet again, he reaches over and takes her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. "Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"There is no need for thanks," he says, and she looks about ready to protest, but he can hardly tell her that he does it all because he loves her, now, can he? So instead he smiles and says, "but you're welcome, Miss Mills. I'm glad to be of service." He makes a show of bowing, well at least, as much as he can given that he's sitting and the table in front of him is on his way.

"Silly," Regina says, chuckling, eyes twinkling for the first time since he'd fetched her from the restaurant, and he swears right then that he could be as silly as a damn clown ifit makes _her_ smile like that.

 **...**

"Are you feeling better?" He asks her when he sits down next to her on the couch, bowl of popcorn in hand.

She looks up at him and scoots over a little, giving him a little bit of space to settle before she moves closer to him again, her feet curling under her.

She shrugs and tries to smile, "I'm feeling better, yes," she says, and though it isn't entirely true, she's still upset what Daniel had done, but she does feel better in a way, too, feels better here with him. "Thank you." She means to thank him for more than just asking, and he knows that —his slight smile and shrug of one shoulder lets her know that.

"I'm your friend, Regina," he says, arm going around her shoulder to squeeze her slightly in reassurance. She snuggles closer and sighs when her head hits the pillow that is his chest, and his arm tightens around her. "You know I'm going to be here for you, always."

She smiles, despite herself. "I know," she says, because she does know, is sure of him and his friendship, is sure she can always count on both. "You're my best friend."

Robin's response is a soft ' _Hmm_ _'_ as she settles further into him and he starts the movie they had planned to watch. But had she been looking at his face, she'd have seen the crestfallen look that had taken over his features, would have known that he wanted more than just to be her best friend, wanted to be her _everything_ , the man she runs to for comfort and for anything, the man who makes her smile and dries her tears (which is what he's actually doing now), the man who means to her the same thing she means to him.

But she hadn't been looking, and she doesn't know any of that.

Perhaps it is better.

After all, ignorance is bliss.

 **...**

There's a sharp ache that settles on his heart the moment she says that he is her best friend. He should be happy, should be content with the place he has in her heart, should be grateful that he has a place at all, and he is, he really is, even if it isn't exactly the place he wants to be in. But the pain is there, even when he tells himself that it shouldn't be.

She's blissfully unaware, of his pain, of his feeling, and though sometimes he thinks that he should tell her, just in case she does return his feelings, most times, he thinks it's better this way because at least, he's sure that he would never lose her.

He feels her snuggle closer to him, for warmth, for comfort, for security —whatever it is, he willingly gives it, lets her take without asking for anything back. He tightens his hold on her and rubs his hand up and down her arm, until her breath deepens and evens out, and then she's dead weight against him, asleep in his arms.

It isn't the first time she has fallen asleep in his apartment or in his arms for that matter, and with the ease of practice, he pulls away from her and gently lifts her up. He carries her to the bedroom, flipping the light on as he goes, careful not to bump her head. He knows that she'll protest in the morning, ashamed of having taken his bed when he willingly gave it to her, and so much more if she'd let him, but frankly he doesn't care.

Robin places her down and pulls the blanket over her, making sure that she's safely and well encompassed under the covers (she does sleep like a snug bug in a rug), before he moves to sit beside her on the bed. He tucks some errant hair back from her face and stares at her for a while, wonders briefly if this could be classified as creepy behavior, but she's beautiful, so beautiful that he finds it hard to look away.

He leans down and places a kiss against her forehead, unable, really, to stop himself. He whispers a soft goodnight to her, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, rests his forehead against hers and pretends that he isn't hurting, that she isn't, because she is his to love —pipe dream, that one, but it is a dream all the same, and he's entitled to it.

Pulling away and shaking his head at himself, at how stupid he is over a woman (though she's more than just a woman, she's _the_ woman, the woman of his dreams, and the one he is apparently destined to love for the rest of his life even if she won't return his feelings), he sighs once more and feels like his heart cracks at every breath.

"I love you," he murmurs in the dead of the night, whispers it to her sleeping form, knowing she won't hear it, and having no courage to say it otherwise. "And I know you don't feel the same way, that you _love_ Daniel. I know you say you're happy with him, but I see you cry and crumble like this over every stupid thing he's done and it breaks my heart. I want to punch him in the face and shake him so he'd realize what a wonderful woman you are and how you're everything to some people, to _me_ , while he treats you like nothing."

He sighs, stops when her eyelashes flutter and she stirs, his heart pounding in his chest. But she only moves to her side and stays asleep and he lets out the breath he isn't aware he has been holding.

"And I'm okay to be just exactly what you need, Regina, even if it's just friends," he tells her still sleeping form, part of him wishing she's awake, most of him relieved that she isn't. "But… I don't think I can stop loving you." He chuckles quietly, though most of it is derision and self-deprecation. "I hope that's okay."

Of course, he is met with silence, Regina's breathing the only sound heard in the stillness of the room, so Robin shakes his head and sighs, takes one last look at her and then walks out to sleep on the couch.

What he doesn't know is that Regina had been awake all along, had awoken when he had kissed her forehead, his stubble tickling her, and had started talking. His words had shocked her into silence, and instead of bidding him goodnight just like she'd planned, she'd remained still, pretended to sleep, had rolled over at one point just for good measure, but she's heard it all.

She'd heard _everything_.

Robin doesn't know that, though, and in the end, ignorance really _is_ bliss.

* * *

 **Let me know what you all think, it'd be much appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**hola! Due to high public demand, this has come back with a vengeance. This is part two. Thank you for everyone who participated on my twitter poll, I hope you enjoy this as much as the first one! My many thanks to Milenyana for beta reading (** _even if it only took her 90 years)..._

 _Thank you so much to everyone who has read, followed, faved, and reviewed. I might not be able to personally thank each and everyone of you but just know that my heart is filled to the brim with love for you._

 _Enjoy darlings!_

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Robin's fingers pluck against the strings of his trusty old guitar as the music flows from him without thought. He's always fancied himself one with music, always being able to get himself lost in it, always being able to trust it to let him express freely what simple words cannot. Softly, he begins to hum to the tune of the song he mindlessly plays, not even realizing that he's doing so.

Soon enough, the words flow out of his mouth as his fingers change positions, transitioning from chord to chord, to make music that only he can hear. The lyrics act like a dagger to his already aching heart, every word striking a cord deep inside him for how true they are.

 _I'm broken, do you hear me?_

 _I'm blinded, 'cause you are everything I see,_

 _I'm dancin' alone, I'm praying,_

 _That your heart will just turn around,_

His brain, traitorous organ that it is, suddenly conjures images of _her_ , of the one woman that he always sees no matter where he is or what he is doing, the one woman who has taken residence in his heart and does not seem to want to leave (not that she knows she's there permanently, or that she's ever had the choice whether she wants to be there or not, in the first place—but neither does he).

Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes twinkle and her nose scrunches, the way she looks when she seems to let her guard down just for a minute so he can take a precious peek to who she really is behind all her inhibitions, behind all the walls that she's erected around her.

Robin remembers the tears she sheds, though begrudgingly, in front of him whenever there is something that hurts or frustrates her (mostly, it's Daniel or her mother, or a combination of both, when they play the Regina-tug-o-war that they play, which sometimes makes her less of a human and more of a toy, though she would never tell them that). He remembers how he'd had to pry that out of her, too, because most of the time she has her shackles up and she thinks that her tears are a sign of weakness, and that's a part of her she never wants to show to anyone.

 _When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight,_

 _It just won't feel right,_

 _'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah,_

He thinks of her and Daniel, and how he never seems to realize the beauty that is right in front of him, how Daniel cannot seem to realize the treasure that he possesses, the one thing that Robin would kill to have, the thing he'd gladly steal, since it isn't given to him; Regina's heart.

And it kills him, knowing how _he_ can love her better than Daniel if only she'd give him the chance.

If only Robin had the courage to tell her...but he doesn't, and Regina doesn't know, and he doesn't stand a chance against the man she truly does love. Though it hurts him more than anything to have to watch her be in another's man's arms when she should be in his, he tries to swallow the pain because all he wants is her happiness...even if that's not with him.

 _And then I see you on the street,_

 _In his arms, I get weak,_

 _My body fails, I'm on my knees_

 _Prayin',_

He wishes she would change her mind, that she would have a change of heart, and one day she wakes up and realize that he's the one who can love her the way she deserves to be loved. He wishes that more than anything...wishes that she would stop seeing him as her best friend and see him for who he is, all that he is...for the man that he's always been—the man in love with her.

But she doesn't.

She won't.

And though he loves her more than anything, he can't force her to return his feelings.

Hell, he can't even get her to return his calls the past few weeks, because for some reason she'd taken to ignoring his existence, which hurts him more than anything, but can't possibly figure out why.

For a moment, he panics and thinks that she might have heard his declaration of love for her, but then he thinks that if she had, she'd surely confront him about it. The Regina he knows won't let that sleep, won't let that come between them, and surely she would want to clear the air, would want to set the boundaries he already knows are there—that they're just friends, they aren't anything more, and that they can never be because she's in love with Daniel, and that's that.

 _Yeah, I've never had the words to say,_

 _But now I'm askin' you to stay_

 _For a little while inside my arms,_

 _And as you close your eyes tonight,_

 _I pray that you will see the light,_

 _That's shining from the stars above,_

So maybe, just maybe something is wrong, maybe he's done something wrong...and maybe he'll never know what it is...and maybe, just maybe, that's all for the best.

 _When he lays you down,_

 _I might just die inside (I'm broken)_

 _It just don't feel right,_

 _'Cause I can love you more than this,_

 _Can love you more than this_

 **...**

 _It's for the best_ , she tells herself as she tries very hard not to miss him, but still does, anyway. It's ridiculous that she has to do this, but it's for the best.

So she tries. She tries to stay away from him, tells herself that it's the best thing to do, for her, for him, and even for Daniel. It's not fair to either one of them. None of them deserves this, after all, not the pain that it entails, and she knows that since she can't return Robin's feelings for her, the best thing to do is this—to stay away.

The thing is, even if she doesn't want to admit it to herself, she misses him. She misses him terribly and wishes she could just go back to bliss of not knowing what he really feels for her. If only that thought didn't make her feel as selfish as it sounds, then maybe she'd have pretended to not know and let things stay the same way.

But she can't, she can't do that, not to _him_. She might not love him exactly the way he _apparently_ loves her, but she _does_ love him, in her own way, and hurting him is the last thing she wants to do. He'd be anything she needs him to be, he'd said that night, but right now what she needs is for him to not be hurt...so how is she supposed to tell him that without hurting him some more? And so she stays away, leaves him without much of an explanation because she doesn't have any and she finds that she can't actually lie to him.

Robin doesn't deserve that, or this, any of this really, and she knows this, but she can't keep hurting him the way she had, even when she hadn't even realized that she'd been hurting him. She hates herself for her inability to deal with this in an adult way, in a way that wouldn't have him probably wondering why she's suddenly disappearing from his life like she is now. And since she doesn't have a good explanation, and at this point has all but given up on trying to find one, or to stop herself from missing him, she just lets her heart work, listens to the way it leads her to the archery range in the campus—the one and only in the campus or she thinks in the entirety of the city; which she'd thought to be odd at first to have been built and be there at all, until Robin had brought her there one day when she'd been overwhelmed and had let her cry in his shoulder like he usually does. At the time she'd thought that he was the greatest best friend ever, now when she looks back she understands that he is, but he felt more than she had, did, does? It had become their special place then, and she would usually spend time with him there, basking in the quiet and comfort of his company.

Regina isn't sure if he's going to be there, but deep down she wishes he isn't, she wonders and hopes that he's in class right now, because frankly, she does not know what she were to do if she meets him there. She doesn't want it to be awkward but it probably will be, knowing him, knowing her, and knowing what she does know now.

God

Is it selfish to wish that she hadn't heard?

Shaking her head, she steps into the covered range and is immediately assaulted by the sound of a guitar playing softly, its melodic sound vibrating off the acoustics pleasantly. She smiles, easily reminded by the many, many times Robin has played for her with his guitar, singing to her, sometimes even lulling her to sleep when she thought very little of the consequences their closeness made.

She listens, staying rooted to the spot she had by the door, just out of sight, smiling softly and swaying slightly. She doesn't know the song, has heard it, sure, but isn't all too familiar, but she likes it. She thinks nothing of it, until there is a voice to accompany the sound of guitar, and then her blood runs cold and she feels the shock and surprise paralyze her feet. She wants to move, wants to leave, wants to be far, far away because she's not entirely sure how she can make herself walk away once more if she stays, but her heart is thundering in her chest and it's whispering loudly the words she's been trying so hard to ignore the past few days.

His back is to her, she notes. She can still make a mad dash out the door and he'll never even know she's been there, and that's probably for the best.

But she misses him.

Regina misses his warmth and the times he would talk to her about everything and anything, and nothing at all. Misses his voice, just misses him.

Before she can even stop herself of think better of what she is about to do, her mouth opens and lets out the words she hadn't even had the time to register in her brain.

"I never pegged you as a One Direction fan," she says, and almost smacks herself left and right, front and center.

So much for leaving without a trace.

So much for staying away.

But really, how can she ever stay away from him?

Maybe it's wrong, maybe it's selfish, but why can't she just go on pretending like she doesn't know?

(Because it hurts, it fucking hurts, she thinks to herself, but fails to acknowledge.)

His playing stops and his shoulders tense, and though she cannot see him, she knows there is an expression of utter surprise etched in his handsome face right now—why the fuck is she torturing them this way again?

Slowly, very slowly, as though time is standing still, he turns, guitar still positioned on his lap and held to his body by his arms (arms that she misses so much but does not want to admit to herself). His blue eyes are wide and his mouth is partially dropped, and though it seems like such a strain to be looking behind him, he doesn't really turn fully.

"Regina?" He breathes out, as though she's not real and he's only seeing a ghost.

"Robin," she says as softly, and if there is one thing she's learned from herself it's that she cannot resist him. Despite everything, he's still her best friend, and despite the kind of love she does not feel for him, she _does_ love him, and that, well that's nothing to take lightly.

"I—uh," he stutters, unable to form sentences. He must realize the awkward position he's in because he places the guitar down beside him and turns fully to face her.

"I didn't know you were a _Directioner_ ," she teases, though it's only half-hearted. The situation is still as tense as it is awkward.

He scratches the back of his head and bites down on his bottom lip. "Well no," he mutters, shrugging. "But I do reckon I'd make a great part of a band—like a heartthrob." He is mostly teasing, and she chuckles, shaking her head. "I mean, I do look better than Zayn, don't you agree?"

Of course, he does. But does he really need that much stroke in his ego?

"He's not even in the band anymore," she retorts, making Robin laugh and shake his head. There is levity in the situation that she had not expected, but then again, when it comes to them, there has always been an ease that cannot be replicated with anyone else.

"Ah, alas your true colours have come out, Miss Mills," he teases, making her narrow her eyes at him. "All along I thought you didn't like that cookie-cutter popstar bullshit, and you've been a fan of One Direction."

She pouts at him and rolls her eyes. How ridiculous this conversation has turned out to be, but it is original… at least.

The silence that falls over them isn't at all surprising, though it is just a bit uncomfortable. Her mind runs a thousand miles a minute and she thinks of the words they should say, but _can't_ , the words they need to say, but _won't._

"I missed you," he murmurs, voice soft and smooth. There are so many emotions in there, she hears them, sees them in his eyes even, because his blues are wide and sparkling, filled to the brim with so many feelings.

She feels the same, misses him with every fibre of her being, wants nothing more than to go over there and hug him, never let this thing she's learned about him, his feelings, about them, to come between them.

But it has come between them, and she knows now why he's hidden it from her for so long.

"I miss you too," she whispers, and it is full of emotion, her voice quivering even as she tries to hold everything together.

It seems as though idiocy is the running theme of the day as the words she shouldn't say slip out of her mouth before she could think about it.

"I..." he begins, but he shakes his head and sighs, looking her straight in the eye. "Then why did you suddenly disappear?" His eyes are gentle and probing. "Did I do something?"

She shakes her head no. "Of course not," she says quickly, almost defensively because she can't let him think that he's done something when...well, no, he's not done _anything_.

"No?" he asks, bewildered. "Then why..."

Regina purses her lips. "I can't...Robin, it's complicated," she says instead because she can't deal with this right now, doesn't want to, and she doesn't want to lie to him...and this, well technically this isn't a lie. It _is_ complicated.

"Is it Daniel?" he asks, and it's a question he doesn't even have to form. They have been down this road so many times before. "Did he want you to stop seeing me again?" Then he frowns, as if offended. "Did you finally give in to him?"

He sounds so hurt, and god, that hurts her too.

"No, of course not," she tells him, looking at him in earnest to make sure he knows that she's not lying. Well not really, because yes, Daniel has asked, for what seems to be the billionth time already, for her to stay away from Robin, but it is at least true that she had not and would never acquiesce to that.

This, well, this is of her own volition—which she supposes would hurt more.

She doesn't know what it is, maybe it's her silence, maybe it's her expression or her body movement—she's not entirely sure, but it's like a spark is suddenly ignited in his brain and then he gasps, and shakes his head, looking more horrified than she's ever seen him.

"Oh my god, you heard didn't you?" Robin asks, no doubt going back to that night, that night in his bedroom. "You know!?"

Regina looks away, fearful that he'd be able to read her eyes. "Know what?" she asks, looking down at her feet, hoping to convince him even when she knows she's doing a very poor job of doing so.

He sighs, breathes in deeply and his voice softens, and she wants to look, wants very badly to stare him in the eyes, but she really can't.

"You know that I'm in love with you," he deduces and it's no longer a question but a statement.

A simple eight word statement that breaks her heart in two.

* * *

 **Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what y'all think!**

 **If you're not a One Direction fan, I apologize for the song used. It's just fitting.**


	3. Chapter 3

"You know that I'm in love with you," he murmurs, his voice soft, but it's no longer a question but simply a statement of shock because she already knows, he knows that, can see it in the way she moves, in the way that she refuses to meet his eyes, even when it's written clearly in her face and the way her eyes had widened when he'd said it.

Granted, this isn't exactly the way he's imagined he'd admit it to her (mostly because he's never really thought he'd be admitting it to her, but he should have known that there are no secrets left hidden, and things like this...feelings like this, it could not be buried forever), but this is how it is. What is done is done.

"You are?" she stammers, and there's something in her eyes, something in the way it widens, and her lips turn up at the sides a little, he'd probably miss it if he doesn't know her so well, hadn't memorized every curve and contour of her lovely face.

It almost lights a hope deep inside him, but he snuffs that out before it can get any bigger. She's not in love with him, can never be, not with how she pines after that miserable slob Daniel, and how she looks past every transgression, every pain just to be with him. She cannot be in love with him, because she's everything, she's the whole world, his whole world, and he was just—he was just him. Sad, pathetic Robin with a sad life and a sad story. He doesn't deserve her.

In another life she's a queen, and he's nothing but a common thief.

He wants to ask her why she's asking when they both know that she knows, but there's something about her expression, that upturned face awaiting a response, expecting one, and though he _really, really, really_ does not want to tell her, to admit it out loud again because saying it and not getting it in return (though he expects that, knows for sure he would never get that) makes him feel like shit, makes him feel like a right git.

"I am," he confirms instead, because it's the truth, it's what she knows and what he feels and it's useless now to deny it, knowing he's felt it since forever, and though she doesn't know the extent of it, or how long, he knows she's smart enough to surmise that it's been a _long_ time.

She opens her mouth to speak, but only a soft breath whooshes out of her parted lips, and damn it to fucking hell, he wants to kiss her, wants to press his lips against her and kiss her senseless, kiss her to see reason, to make her see that she's made for him, and he for her, and Daniel is just a useless asshole she's dating.

But he doesn't, of course not, because he's not an asshole, and because he respects her and their friendship to not force his love on her if she doesn't want it. He loves her, and though there is nothing in this world that could make him happier than hearing her say she loves him back, he loves her enough to let her be happy and free to love whoever she wants.

He only ever wants to see her happy, even if her happiness isn't him.

Even her happiness doesn't include him.

"But you can't," she mutters, her face contorting into something he cannot decipher, into one that he knows very well—pained. He's seen that painted in her expression one too many times to know what it looks like. She's pained and it's because of him, and fuck, he feels like a world class heel.

He ignores the pain of her rejection, telling himself that it's not something he hasn't told himself already, if not once then one too many million times, and that's okay, it doesn't hurt... _much_ (it hurts a bloody fucking lot, thank you very much, but it's not something he's not anticipated). He focuses on _her_ pain, instead, because that's him, that's what he does, put her above all else.

"I know," he tells her, almost placating. "It's nothing I haven't told myself Regina. I know I can't and shouldn't love you, and I do not blame you at all for not loving me. That's not your fault. I understand completely. There are about a billion and one reasons why you shouldn't love me back..." He runs his fingers through his hair, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. "I'm not...I don't deserve you. I'm not worthy. I know all of it, have it even drilled it in my head, so no need to tell me what I already know."

 **...**

He doesn't deserve her.

That's what he says—that he understands why she's rejecting him, and that she's not worthy of him, and fuck he's got this all wrong, because that's not it at all. She's not rejecting him, and if there's anyone not worthy it's her.

She's too messed up, too jaded and has too much baggage that she just can't—not with Robin. Robin is the most constant person in her life, hell, he's the only constant in her life, and she cannot lose that, cannot lose him. She sucks at relationship, too, and if they ever...if she ever gives him a chance, it's highly unlikely that she won't lose him in the end...because everything has an ending...and everything she touches she destroys.

So he's wrong. It's her, not him—though that sounds like the worst line in the world (it is), it's also the truth. _She_ doesn't deserve _him_ —sweet, good, kind, loving Robin. Regina, the wreck that she is—does not deserve him at all.

And it doesn't even really matter, because well, she has Daniel, and she loves him. She loves Daniel, loves him enough to stay in the wreckage they call their relationship even if she knows it's been doomed from the beginning.

But maybe it's why she stays, because she knows she won't lose her mind and her whole being to lose him, that somehow, even if it hurts her to lose him, she'll find a way to survive. But losing Robin—she doesn't even want to think about that.

"Look, Regina," he mutters, and she comes back down to earth, looks at him with wild eyes because she thinks she knows what he's about to say next, and she doesn't like it, doesn't want to hear it, she'll be broken, she knows she will (despite the fact that she's the one who stayed away), so she shakes her head before he can even say a word.

She shakes her head so vigorously, it makes her a little bit dizzy, but damn it, she's not going to let him do this to her.

"I won't, I can't, Robin, no," she says before he can even say a word. "I don't care about..." well, not his feelings, she cares a lot about him and his feelings. "I care about you, a lot, and I love you, in my own way, and I can't lose you. I refuse to lose you."

There are tears on her eyes, and they almost fall down but Robin is there in front of her in three quick strides, brushing her tears away before they can even fall. He's never really liked seeing her cry, just as much as she hates seeing him this way—pained, tortured—and it's even worse that _she_ is the reason.

"You won't lose me," he promises, and it's an easy thing to say, she's heard it so many times from so many different people but they never meant a lick, none of them ever really meant it except her father, and she's scared that those words will be that—just words—with Robin.

He cups her jaw and looks her straight in the eye. For a split second she wishes he'd lean down and kiss her, but she shakes that thought from her mind because no, she doesn't feel that way for him (does she?).

"Regina, I won't let that happen. I know you say you refuse to lose me, but I refuse to lose you too, and I promise you I'm not going to let it happen." He sighs, drops his hands from her cheeks down to his sides, and steps back. "But I do need time. I don't mean forever, or even a long time, and I know we've already spent so much time apart...but I have to go lick my wounds for a while yeah?" He reaches up and scratches the back of his head, and gives her a small, pained smile.

She wants to yell him that no, she doesn't want that, but she does love him, in her own way, and she loves him enough to give him that. If it's time he needs then it's time she'll give him. After all, she'd been distant from him, too, and he'd been very patient with her.

"I get that you love Daniel, and that you don't love me—not in the way I love you, I've known it for a long, long time, but it's a hard blow to hear it from the love of my life. So I might need to...well, try and move on from it all, okay?"

It's honest and open, and it's also very much painful, and she wishes for once, that she's good enough, that she's not herself but someone else, someone with a better life or was a better person...but she's not.

She nods at him, unable to say anything.

He pauses and looks at her curiously, and she looks back at him, wondering what he's thinking.

"If you didn't love him, if _he_ wasn't in the picture..." he starts but trails off, as if afraid to ask the question that they both know has been brewing for some time.

But he shouldn't be afraid of asking the question, perhaps he should be more afraid of the answer. Good thing, Regina doesn't have those either.

"I don't know," she says softly, sighing, chin falling down her chest as she strives to look anywhere but him. "I guess."

He's silent for a moment. "If I wasn't me, if I was someone else, someone more deserving," he starts, and it's an absolutely terrible—the three second pause that seems to stretch for hours before he continues with: "If I was someone worthy of you, I'd make you happy, happier than he ever could."

She smile woefully, fights the tears pressing against her eyes. "And if I was someone better, someone else, someone not me, I would have let you."

His eyes are wet with tears as he nods, and then with one last goodbye, he walks away from her.

He doesn't even look back.


End file.
